Before I can respond, the back door is flung open, startling us both. Atticus peeks around the door, grinning at us. “Sorry to interrupt the fun, but, Cas, we gotta go. They’re waiting for us.”
Glancing back at Caspian, he winces as he looks at me. “I’m so sorry. We have this paid meet and greet at a bar across town. It’s a required thing by the label. I’d invite you to come along, but it’s a sold-out thing, and they’re pretty strict on headcount. But I’ll see you at the next show, right?”
“Oh, yeah. It’s okay. I’ll definitely be there.”
He nods. “Okay, I’ll text you, and we can meet up again. Uninterrupted this time.”
Well, I guess this could’ve gone worse, But I still can’t help feeling disappointed.
I pull out my phone, updating the twins before calling an Uber to bring me back to my hotel. By the time I get to the room, disappointment weighs heavy in my gut. I wish we got to say more to each other. Now he’s going out to do God knows what with God knows who.
Fuck me.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-ONE
Caspian
The room we’re in is dim and stuffy. The LED lights cast the space in a red glow, but aside from that, it’s dark. Fans are all around, excited to meet us, and normally I’d be all about this. But tonight, my mind is across town where I left Rowan.
When I asked him to come backstage earlier today, it was on a whim, and I completely forgot about this event. I would’ve loved more time with him to talk. It’s like I’ve been so closed off on hearing any side of the story since I was kicked out of the program, but Atticus’s words seem to have gotten through to me, because now, all I want is to hear Rowan out. See if I made a mistake, if maybe the situation wasn’t how it seemed to me.
Having him near me again, though, and hearing him admit that he bought all those tickets because heneededme to hear him out… it was a lot. I’ve built up this wall that I can now only describe as a defense mechanism because I thought he was somehow working with Sebastian. Because in my childhood trauma riddled brain, there was no possible way that someone as good and pure as Rowan could actually want me for any reason other than a gain of some sort.
Tomorrow morning, we fly to Japan. We have several shows there, and while I know there will be time for Rowan and me to talk about everything while we’re there, I don’t want to wait. I don’t want to fly to another country, sit through radio interviews, more meet and greets, more shows, without knowing what he wants to tell me.
Ineedto know now.
“You were great tonight,” someone says from beside me, pulling me from my thoughts.
A woman with jet black hair down to her waist stands next to me, a dazed grin on her face.
I return the smile as best as I can, but I know it doesn’t reach my eyes. “Thank you.”
“I’m a big fan,” she says, her words coming out slurred. “I’ve seen you guys every time you’ve come here.”
“Thanks for coming. Appreciate the support.”
She leans in, the scent of the vodka strong on her breath. “I live just ’round the block. Want to get out of here and party back at my place?”
“Appreciate the offer, darling, but I’m gonna have to pass. We got an early flight in the morning.”
Glancing at the time on my phone, it’s been about two hours since we arrived here. I don’t wait for her to reply, brushing past her, deciding to have a smoke. I weave my way through the bodies littering the space, until I reach the back door, thankful no one follows me.
After I light up, I shove my lighter and the pack of smokes back into my pocket, grabbing my phone instead. I unlock the screen and pull up my message thread to Rowan, typing out a quick message.
Me: You still up?
Staring down at my phone, fully expecting him to be passed out already, my pulse races as the bubble pops up, letting me know he’s responding.
Rowan: Should I be star struck that the big ole famous rock star is “you up” texting me at two in the morning? ;)
Me: As a matter of fact, you should.
Rowan: Figured you would’ve had your pick of the litter at the bar.
His insinuation is clear, and it’s valid, but what he doesn’t understand is that I haven’t had eyes for a single other person since he walked up to my breakfast table, stealing my blueberries and bugging the shit out of me.
Me: Probably could’ve, but I wasn’t interested in any of that.
